Spells & Starfire

Jamie chuckles as he leans into them, and their hand starts to rub up and down his back with no apparent intention. His gut coils for a split-second before he reminds himself no, they're not going to slip that hand inside his shirt. No, this touch isn't meant to trap him or claim him. No—if he said "no," if he said "stop," Jamie would. This is only affection. Pure, sweet affection.

"If you let me up, I'll come right back," Jamie says like they're making the offer of the century.

Astarion nuzzles in deeper and their heart picks up the tiniest bit. He can hear their heartbeat without needing to press against them this way, but how wonderful it is to be so near the source. That heart is what keeps their body so warm, what makes cuddling with them such a relief in these shadowed lands. Well, part of it. There are, perhaps, other reasons he appreciates lying flat on top of them like some wretched rolling pin, but those reasons are poetic and dull and why don't we all just focus on the warmth part.

"Even better than coming right back would be not leaving at all," Astarion says. "What could you possibly need out there in real world? This tent has all manner of luxuries."

"Does it now?"

"Of course. It's got blood in it," Astarion says. He doesn't intend for his voice to go so dreamy, but alas, these things happen.

"I got blood in me too," Jamie says.

"Mmm. That you do. You're a little luxury in your own right." Astarion can feel their abdominal muscles clench to restrain their laughter and he wishes they wouldn't hold it back anymore. "More importantly," he continues, "this tent has me in it, and in case you've forgotten, I am very beautiful and interesting. Hells, I'm a banisher of shadows now! And sweet, when I feel like it."

"Do you feel like it tonight?" He didn't earlier, but now Jamie's hand has moved from his shoulder to his hair and he is starting to feel very sweet indeed.

"No," he says anyway. "I'm feeling possessive and needy."

Jamie snorts, and their body shakes with it. "No shit."

"Don't jostle me, you brute."

"I'll show you jostling."

"No, no-" Astarion grips Jamie's sides in preparation. "I'm staying right here. Why do you even want to cast me aside? What's out there that's so tempting?"

Jamie evidently decides not to try throwing him off just yet. "Nothing," they say. "I gotta do it, I don't wanna do it."

"What, precisely, is 'it'?" They squirm beneath him and start to speak, but Astarion lifts his head again and shamelessly interrupts. "Wait. You can breathe, can't you? I'm not... hurting you?"

"Nah," Jamie says. "Not hurting me. Look." They take an unnecessarily deep breath, a full gulp of air through their mouth, and their chest rises so dramatically Astarion is lifted several inches higher off the floor.

"Alright, alright! Put me down, please. Hells." He falls back into his position as Jamie breathes out. "So what is it that you 'need' to do so badly out there in the cursed miasma?"

"Uh. Human stuff."

"Good job you're merely half-human, then," Astarion says. "Perhaps you can put off this mysterious task twice as long."

"I've been putting it off," Jamie says, wiggling once more. "I don't think I can wait much longer."

What could they be talking about? Astarion would let them up if they truly had something important to fuss with, but he can't fathom what that might be. The others are all asleep by now, or they damn well should be, so it's not like Jamie has leader business to take care of. The animals are fed; Halsin made a grand show of caring for them earlier, and Shadowheart and Jamie helped hand-feed the beasts from their own plates. Jamie's eaten, too... though if they're hungry again, well. Astarion could hardly begrudge them that. They've only just begun to fill out where once they were nothing but bone. 

"Is it food you need? Water?" he asks. "You ought to drink more water, by the way. Gale keeps telling me this. He says you're dehydrated."

"I don't wanna talk about water right now," Jamie says. Their voice has gone slightly higher.

"Oh? What's water done to deserve the cold shoulder? I'm told you require it. Every day, even."

"Uh, nothing in specific," Jamie says. They've started tapping the back of his head with one hand, which is exceptionally annoying but almost effective at motivating him to move. "Get up, Star, I'll be right back to cuddle. Just lemme take two seconds out there."

"To do what?" Astarion asks again.

"I- nothing..."

"Well if it's 'nothing,' I shan't be moving."

"You're annoying. You know that?"

"I've heard that before, yes."

Jamie holds their breath for five seconds, ten, then releases it all at once. Finally, they reveal their secret, the mission that's had them pestering him for several minutes now.

"...I gotta piss, Astarion!"

Oh.

Oh!

"Well then!" Astarion rolls off of them, lying on his back now, and tries not to cringe at the loss of heat. They sit up as he frees them, and he looks up at their poor distressed face. "Right. Why didn't you just say so? I'd forgotten all about that little function."

"That's why I didn't want to say it! 'Cause I gotta go find someplace to squat in the woods and you never have to do stuff like that," Jamie mumbles.

They're fighting off the bedroll, which seems even more desperate to cling to them than Astarion was, wrapping around their legs as they struggle.

Astarion bites a lip to keep from laughing again. "You can hardly blame me. It's easy to forget that someone who felled Myrkul and his crusty old servant with their very blood needs to bother with mortal things."

"Wish it was easy for me to forget," Jamie says. "This is Gale's fault, really, makin' me drink all that damn water. When I get back, you have to pretend this never happened, okay?"

"Come now. If it helps, try to remember that my, ah, situation is the one that's unusual, not yours," Astarion offers.

Jamie's finally liberated themself from the bedroll and tries to stand upright in the tent. They're hardly tall, but they still graze the top of their head on the ceiling, swear unnecessarily, and crouch again with the most adorable pout.

"Don't even," they tell him. "You love not having to do gross mortal-people things. You're a proper, pretty elf who doesn't have to piss in the shadow-cursed woods."

"Ha. I was trying to be nice to you, but you know me too well," Astarion says, stretching luxuriously. "But I do promise that I forgive your non-vampiric defects."

Jamie winks and turns away. Shit, it's cold out there; the rush of air that swoops in when Jamie lifts the tent flap is decidedly unpleasant. The druid said the Shadow-Curse will clear soon now that Ketheric's truly, properly dead, and in Astarion's opinion, "soon" cannot come soon enough. He reaches for the blanket Jamie abandoned and wraps it around himself before they're fully outside.

"You better save some blanket for me," Jamie tells him once they're through, stage-whispering to keep from waking the others. "My ass is gonna be half-frozen when I get back."

"Perhaps literally," Astarion muses. "What a shame that would be. I rather enjoy that part of you. Do keep it safe out there, dear."

A hand pops back through the tent flap making a very rude gesture, and Astarion does allow himself to laugh this time, even in the silence with no one to see. He burrows deeper into the bedroll and listens to Jamie's footsteps quieten as they search for somewhere to relieve themself.

He'll be here when they get back. Hopefully they won't need to squirm as much, so he can hold them tighter.